


Night in a Paper Cup

by Delysia



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Andrew & Faith, F/M, One Shot, Redemption, season seven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2017-11-11 00:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/472426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delysia/pseuds/Delysia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during season seven. Faith and Andrew talk. So this was what it was like to be Timothy Dalton...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night in a Paper Cup

It wasn't their fault that they didn't see him. It was a lie but Andrew comforted himself with it as low vibrating whispers crept up stairs and curled around the dining room table in the Summers' household and his voice was not among the din. The girls gathered in-groups of three or four; books strewn about but not a page was turned. Instead they partook in an old ritual, spreading gossip and embellishing on it. And Andrew, left unincluded in the corner, told himself again that it wasn't their fault. He could be quite small when he wanted to, better for a possible career in international espionage.

The phone rang and immediately a hush fell upon the house. Buffy was out patrolling with Spike. And Faith, the rouge slayer whom rumor had it Willow had busted out of jail using dark magicks, was coming here to be counted among their ranks. Giles picked up the receiver, as several ears hung on his end of the conversation. There wasn't much information to be gained as Rupert kept his words calm and to a minimum but he did scribble down the name of a local hospital and room number where Amanda could see it. She mouthed 'hospital' to the group at large and suddenly the room burst forth with whispered theories - Perhaps the new Slayer killed Willow? What if a Bringer got to them? What if it was Buffy?

Andrew listened silently as new ideas were put forth and rebuffed by other girls. The conclusion at large seemed to be that the new Slayer had killed or injured the Wicca. Andrew snorted hard, and muttered "hardly" loud enough to interrupt Vi's explanation of why it had to be that, but none of the girls even glanced his way.

Yep, he would be perfect as the next much more subtle James Bond, going unnoticed was the key to joining secret agencies.

Clearing his voice, again Andrew spoke. "Ah... little ones, so naive. But do not be fooled by the witch's meek and almost perky exterior, underneath lies a fierce warrior, a force to be reckoned with." His storyteller demeanor slipped away at the rapt attention. "Besides Willow could snap Buffy like a twig using her powers. Somehow I doubt one little slayer is a threat." And then there was a longing sigh. "Witchcraft is so cool."

Not quite as cool as international espionage but it was a close second. Of course a spy with super powers, Now that would rock!

Rona looked at Andrew, and then at her group. "How does he know?"

Dawn held in a smile. "Oh Andrew nearly got himself flayed by Willow." There was a sickening silence that descended upon the group and Dawn, appreciating the inclusion, continued. "I know, and to think that if Buffy would have let her the TV wouldn't always be on the sci-fi channel." The brunette sent a pointed look in Andrew's direction; a sore point at the moment.

Rona, still obviously digesting the fact that Willow had tried to kill Andrew, slumped back in her seat. "Pity." Although whether the remark was about the TV, or Willow being dangerous, or about Andrew, no one asked.

Giles hung up the receiver only to be surrounded by a dozen of anxious faces. "Did that new slayer hurt Willow?" Amanda spoke up; seeming to gather courage from the fact every other person in the room was thinking the same thing.

Giles looked astonished but Andrew thought it looked kinda showy, like he was putting on an act for his audience. No one in the slayer's circle could really be shocked; if his flying monkeys at the school play didn't garnish a reaction then nothing could... well except maybe the ubervamps... but those were seriously scary. "I assure you Faith did not harm Willow. No, they found some girl injured on the road. They brought her to the hospital and are waiting for her to regain consciousness."

Rona spoke next. "Another potential?"

Andrew almost felt sick at the question, did it really matter if she was a potential or not? Some girl was hurt; there was probably lots of blood...

"Due to the nature of the attack," Giles spoke, taking off his glasses and wiping them clean, "it would appear so. Of course we will know more when the girl wakes. In the meantime, I think it best that we put away the books and rest up."

The girls happily agreed, stacking the books in piles on the dining room table, and heading upstairs to fight over the bathroom and change into their pajamas. Whispers of importance, without a hint of good nature the ones early had held, were shared between them. The situation was improper for giggles now. Of course it always was, but now they felt that inappropriateness more acutely.

Andrew stood at the stairs as they filled past him; not a glanced spared his way. "Remember a clean tooth is a happy tooth," he chipped, trying to offer some helpful tips but not even Rona replied with her usual 'bite me'. Andrew knew he wasn't allowed upstairs during the hour each morning and night when the girls got changed. He hadn't thought it was that big of a deal really but Dawn had promised to shove her curling iron in a very inappropriate place if he did try to join them. It made him wonder if Timothy Dalton had ever had something similar happen to him.

Standing in the deserted dining room next to Giles, Andrew cleared his throat and aimed for nonchalant conversation. "So Willow and that umm... Hope girl-"

"Faith," Giles corrected.

"Of course, Faith. So umm..." Andrew placed a hand down on the table, leaning his weight to the side, a gesture that looked a lot cooler in his mind. "Are they gonna just stay at the hospital till she wakes up? Because I've heard of cases of people sleeping for like days and sometimes even years- but some of those were comas. Do you think a coma is a lot like being asleep? I mean do you think people get dreams and stuff?"

"I'm not sure actually," Giles replied as he organized the volumes the girls had left behind. "You could ask Faith when she arrives, though I'm not sure I'd advise it."

"She-she was in a coma?" Andrew tried to mask the surprise in his voice.

Giles' eyes racked inquisitively over the young boy.He didn't seem dangerous but approaching Faith with some half-cocked information could cause a problem. "Something like that, yes. However, on second thought, it would not be a topic she would be likely to take kindly to."

"So I should just ask her very nicely?"

"I would avoid conversing at all." The watcher saw the questions forming over the disappointment clouding in Andrew's eyes. "I don't know what Xander and Dawn told you all when they did the briefing but Faith is dangerous-"

Andrew held up one finger. "But I thought she had been reformed?"

"Reformed? Yes. But it is not just something that happens over night, like flicking on a light switch. It is a daily struggle. And her relationship with Buffy, with all of us for that matter, is tenuous at best. You must remember once a killer always a killer. I strongly advise against putting yourself in any unnecessary danger."

"I get it," Andrew nodded. Yep, he got it all right, once a killer, always a killer. Maybe Jonathan was right; maybe Roger Moore was the superior Bond.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~

 

"So did Faith ever account her time spent in her coma to you?" Andrew questioned, holding his camera close to Buffy's face.

"Count her what?" Buffy asked, annoyed.

"Her time spent in Sunnydale Memorial Hospital," Andrew clarified. "Like did she talk about any dreams she had or when she woke was she like really, really rested?"

"Huh?" Buffy shook her head. "And hey what with all the Faith questions? I thought the reason I allowed you to use that stupid thing again was to make some training tapes for the girls, not to play Barbara Walters."

Andrew circled around Buffy slowly, adding a cinematic edge. "I am. But well-rounded slayer training includes information about previous slayers, don't you think? Like what weapons they preferred, or fighting styles or what was their favorite flavor of ice cream..."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Turn it off."

"But I am preserving the history of slayers for future generation," Andrew protested.

"Off. Now." Buffy snatched the camera from his hand. "Or I will dismantle it into one of those one million piece 3-D puzzle things. Understood?"

"Yes," Andrew nodded, taking his camera back from Buffy's open hand and cradling it close to his body.

Buffy looked expectantly at Andrew. "Go," she added finally and Andrew scurried out of the kitchen.

"A little tough on the kid, dontcha think?" Faith stepped in from where she had been watching the scene unfold in the dining room.

"Not really," Buffy replied, as she filled up the sink with warm soapy water. "This whole camera thing is just irritating. Giles thinks it keeps him out of everyone's hair but somehow I'm the one with Andrew bubble gum in mine."

"So he's a little annoying," Faith replied, hopping up to sit on to the island. "But he is just a kid, B."

"That kid stabbed his best friend."

"Whoa. Really?"

"Yes, really." Faith watched as she wiped down the counters. The dark green rag in contrast with Buffy's golden flesh; reality was always too close. "I'm not saying Andrew is all bad. I just don't have a lot of compassion for him is all."

"Yeah," Faith agreed. "It's hard to muster up emotions for people who go about stabbing their best friends in the back."

Silence followed and Faith wondered if Buffy thought that her comment was a meant as a judgment on her. Faith liked to think it wasn't. After all hadn't she stabbed Buffy in the back first? Andrew might have killed Jonathan but in Faith's eyes what she did to Buffy and her friends was far worse. Redemption wasn't a level playing field.

"I just feel sorta sorry for him," Faith tacked on as she rummaged in the fruit bowl for a moment before deciding on an apple, the original sin, impossible to wash away. It felt all too perfect.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~

 

It had been a long night, an impossibly long night, and those girls... God. Faith didn't even want to think about it. Worse than the ones lost were the ones still standing, there was blood on the living room carpet that would never come clean, and shell shocked silence of those who would never be able to forget. Death, killing, did that to people. Faith had retreated to Buffy's back porch, sitting along the steps; heavy boots tempted to step off. She wanted to run farther, to just get away from it all. But Willow and Buffy were with Xander at the hospital, she was the resident babysitter. If that didn't clearly paint how desperate their situation was, she didn't know what did.

The screen door swung open; the noise startling. He was always too loud too; a sad smile crept on her lips. "Here." Andrew handed Faith a paper cup, a pretty pink liquid filling it. "I thought you might like one."

Faith took the cup; his hand was so hot. She inched over slightly, creating a space, an unspoken invitation. "What is it?"

Andrew took her invitation, nerves fluttering in his stomach in case he misread her gesture and she didn't want him there. "It's blackberry brandy. Anya found it hidden behind Xander's spare bag of cheesy puffs. She said she was liberating it."

Faith took a sip, the warm liquid burning her throat as it gliding down. Babysitters probably should remain substance free but tonight she didn't care. She just wanted something to make the sun come up. "Not bad." Andrew sat quietly next to her, his own hands empty. "Why don't you have one?"

"I don't really drink," he admitted, though why he was telling this to her he didn't know. But the truth was he wasn't Timothy Dalton, he wasn't Bond, and he didn't drink martinis. He didn't drink anything. "I tried it once and I ended up throwing up on Warren's shoes. He wasn't very nice about it." The last part took some courage to admit to, but it had just slipped out. To say things like that about Warren should have felt wrong, but it didn't. Andrew didn't realize that a truth couldn't feel dirty.

Silence fell upon them, and Faith took another sip before speaking again. The night was warm but the world felt cold. "Can I ask you something?" He didn't answer. He knew Faith would ask either way. "Why were you talking to Buffy about me?"

A blush crawled up his ears and neck. "I was doing this video thing- to help the girls. Like recording Buffy training, and slaying and stuff. I made this other tape before bout the inner workings of our little Scooby gang..."

Faith didn't bother to correct him. He probably already knew all too well that he wasn't part of the unit. He was just an outsider looking in, same as her. "I had dreams."

"What?"

Faith lowered her head. She was just answering the kid's questions. "When I was in the coma. I had dreams. Nightmares in fact, big full screens with surround sound. And you can't wake up. That's what's a coma is like."

Andrew suddenly wished the topic had never come up at all. "That must have been awful." And then wanting to be on her playing field he continued to speak. "When I was like six or seven my mom sent me and my brother, Tucker, to this camp. And they told us all these scary ghost stories and stuff. I couldn't sleep for a month. My mom had to pick me up early."

"Bet you didn't know they were real huh? Monsters all around."

"I guess. But the thing is when Tucker taught me about demons and things they didn't seem so bad. Like the stories made it worse because then I could only imagine things."

Faith leaned back, her elbows propping her up. "It's all in your mind," she mused, and then in a rush because she wanted to know, she asked. "Is it true you killed your best friend?"

"I-" His tiny body seemed to fold in on itself. "I got tricked. I thought that we were all gonna be gods."

"Must have been some trick." And then witnessing the hurt flash in Andrew's eyes she softened a bit. "I wasn't tricked."

"Xander told us about that," he admitted. "And Dawn. And I overheard Buffy talking about it to Spike. Also Giles mentioned the fact that you were still struggling against your Darth Vader side- pre redemption."

"Somehow I can't picture the tweed-man making any analogy using Star Wars."

"I might have inferred a little bit."

"Think so, huh?" Faith stood, crushing the empty paper cup. There was something sad about a used paper cup. It couldn't be washed so it purpose was over. She didn't want to be that. She wanted to be counted.

"Sorry," Andrew apologized, standing next to her. "It's probably not something you wanna hear."

Faith shrugged. "Don't sweat it."

"Xander threatened my Superman collection if I made things worse. It's just you're the only one here who knows what it's like..."

"Having a comic book collection threatened?" But even Faith knew she was just stalling. She didn't want to tell the poor kid, they weren't on level playing fields, not by a long shot. He had been tricked. She had been crazy jealous.

"You read comics too?" Andrew asked genuinely interested. "I have the entire Dr. Doom series under Willow's bed. If you want I could go get it."

"I was kidding."

"Of course. I knew that." Andrew leaned against the porch rail, praying he looked more like Fonzie than Richie. "I was just teasing you back."

Faith just nodded, pulling a pack of cigarettes from her back pockets and tapping them against the white rail, before pulling one out. "Want one?"

Andrew just shook his head and bit his tongue to refrain from pointing out that they killed people.

Faith sucked in hard and brought her lighter to the tip, the paper burning down, as she blew out the smoke. "Kinda pegged you for the healthy life style lecture. You know? Thought you were gonna say cigarettes kill."

So it was a good decision not to just speak up like he usually did. Andrew forced a hollow laugh. "I don't care about them. I live life on the edge." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I used to be one of Buffy's archenemieses. I was a super villain."

Faith took another drag, eyes appraising with mild amusement. "How come I'm having major problems picturing that?"

He shrugged. "I used to do all sorts of evil things, like once we turned Buffy invisible, and another time I summoned these demons to show up at the construction site where she was working with Xander. And then we had this really cool freeze ray. We used it to rob museums and things. It was way cool."

"And now you're here doing penance."

"I don't really think of it that way." His fingers drummed along the white washed wood. "Actually I kinda like it here. Helping out people and saving the world. Or ya know, trying to help Buffy save the world."

"She's pretty good at that."

"I think you're pretty good at it too." A tint of pink planted itself across his cheeks

"Me?" Faith shook her head, tapping off the excess ash. "I don't do much."

"You're here," Andrew pointed out.

"Well, Will did me a favor back in LA. Just wanted things squared away."

"You didn't have to come but you're here." Andrew boldly placed his hand on hers. "You try."

And then his lips met hers, a rush swelling within him. So this was what it was like to be Timothy Dalton. Emboldened by his Bond-self envisionings he allowed his tongue to glide over hers, the taste of cigarettes still heavy but there was something beneath it; apples maybe? Faith surprised herself by leaning into it, forgetting the lit fag burning between her fingers. His hand snaked up to cup her cheek as he pulled back gently, leaning another chaste peck on to her swollen lips.

"What was that about?"

Andrew shrugged again, but there was no boyishness about the movement. He looked like a man; already he seemed taller, wiser, different. And Faith wondered idly why she hadn't seen these qualities before. "The good guys always get one last kiss at the end," he explained. "I'm not gonna make it to the end, so I thought I would make sure you got one."

He turned to go and Faith wanted to reassure him that he would be fine, that he would make it through, but she couldn't. She wouldn't lie to him, and frankly she didn't know if any of them were gonna make it out.

"You gonna be okay?" Andrew asked, holding the door open.

Faith nodded. Squishing out the butt and flicking it into the yard. "Five by five." But by the time she turned to smile at him he was already gone.

  
The End

**Author's Note:**

> Another story from a lifetime ago. Kudos and comments are love.


End file.
